


The End of the Line

by wayward_winter_soldier



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Demons, Gen, HYDRA sucks, Human Experimentation, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hydra (Marvel), Keep Yourself Alive, Kidnapped, Kidnapped Bucky Barnes, Kidnapped Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, SHIELD, Sam Winchester is So Done, Season/Series 05, Super Soldier Serum, Worried Dean Winchester, Worried Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayward_winter_soldier/pseuds/wayward_winter_soldier
Summary: Sam is kidnapped by Hydra and taken to Russia where he meets someone who's been there before. Dean looks for his brother and runs into a man in the same boat as him.Set in season 5 of Supernatural and after Captain America: Civil War (the times don't technically lineup, just roll with it)Originally posted on my fanfiction.net profile: bumblebeecas





	1. One

Sam didn't remember a lot of what had happened. He had been in DC with Dean working a case and that was it. What else had happened? He couldn't remember anything.

He blinked his eyes open, his head spinning. Where was he? Where was Dean? This didn't look anything like Washington. Sam seemed to be in some sort of basement or jail. The conditions were dreadful. There was only a single light bulb hanging down from the high ceiling and the floors felt grimy under Sam's worn jeans. Sam shifted and suddenly felt the chains around his wrists that he hadn't noticed before. How could he be so stupid? He was trained to be better than this.

He sighed, leaning his head against the wall again, listening for anything useful. "Are you awake?" a voice asked, making Sam jump a bit. It was dark in the room and he couldn't quite see the owner.

"Yeah. I think," Sam said, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He could just make out a silhouette of a man.

"Good. They hit you pretty hard. I thought they killed you or something," the voice chuckled a bit.

"What's your name?"

"Sam. Sam Winchester." Sam watched as the man came closer to Sam, so he could properly see his features.

He was tall with long dark hair, a bit longer than Sam's, and dull blue eyes. He was also in handcuffs, but his were a bit more advanced. Sam noticed that his left arm shined a bit under the light as it was made out of metal. He wore a pair of track pants and a black T-shirt, running shoes on his feet that let Sam know the man had been out for a run when he was taken.

"Bucky Barnes."

What kind of name was Bucky, Sam thought as he looked at him.

"Where are we?"

"Siberia. Hydra facility. I'd recognize this damn dingy cell anywhere."

Russia? How the hell did Sam not only get out of the country but out of the continent?

"That can't be possible. I was in DC! With my brother!"

"I was in New York with my friend. They have people everywhere." Bucky sighed and looked around like he had memories of this place. "I never thought I'd have to be back here."

Sam was about to ask what he meant by that when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching their cell. There were two men talking in what Sam thought was Russian, but Sam couldn't tell since he knew zero Russian. However, Bucky seemed to understand since he was listening closely as the men approached.

The two men stopped, clicking a light on which sent the entire cell into brightness, the single bulb now obsolete.

"Mission report," one said in a thick Russian accent. Sam looked at the man confused, but he realized that he was talking to Bucky, who was saying nothing.

"Misson report, Solider," the other said. Bucky said nothing as he looked down at his hands.

"New recruit. He looks strong. He'll be perfect-"

"Don't." It was Bucky, finally looking up threatening at the men, who laughed.

"You're not in charge anymore, Sergeant. It's no longer 1945, or did you forget?"

Sam didn't know what they meant by that, he really didn't know what anything they said meant, but it made Bucky shut up. What had this guy been through?

"What's your name?" the man asked, looking into Sam's eyes.

"Why you wanna know?"

The man looked unfazed as he only smiled. "Bring him to Op. I want to see how far he can go." Bucky glared at the men as they opened the cell door. He leaped, trying his best to protect Sam with his body despite the cuffs. Suddenly, there was the sound of electricity and Bucky slumped over, yelling in pain.

The cuffs were electric. Good to know.

"C'mon," the first man said, kicking Bucky aside to grab on side of Sam as the other man grab Sam's second shoulder.

"Let me go, you bastards!" Sam yelled, kicking and fighting as the men pulled him along.

"Leave him alone! You have me! You have me, damn it! Take me and leave the kid!"

The cell closed with a loud bang. Sam craned his neck around to try and see Bucky, but the men were strong and prevented him from even moving.

Where was Dean when he needed him?


	2. Two

Dean Winchester was a lot of things, but he wasn't a heavy sleeper. Being raised a hunter had taught him that if he was, he would die and so would his little brother. So when he awoke to a man standing over his motel room bed he did the only logical thing.

He went in for a punch.

The man seemed rather unfazed as he dodged Dean's attack as Dean pulled the gun out from under his pillow, pointing it at the stranger. Dean glared. It was a tall man who was more muscular than Dean could ever hope to be, with blue eyes and short blonde hair. A complete stranger.

"Who are you? What the hell do you want?"

The man frowned. "I'm Steve. I want my friend back."

Dean glared. "I dunno anything about your friend, okay? I'm just here with-"

That was when Dean realized his brother was not in the bed next to his. "Sam?"

The man watched and waited patiently as Dean forgot all about him and began to look in the bathroom and around the room for his brother, finding nothing, not even a note that said he's gone out for breakfast. Finally, Dean looked at the man again, his gun pointed once again.

"Where the hell is my brother?"

"The same place my friend is, I assume. Come with me," he ordered, making his way to the motel room door and opening it, waiting for Dean to follow.

"Like hell! Tell me where he is before I blow your brains out!"

The man narrowed his eyes. "I'll fill you in on the way. The longer we sit and bicker, the longer they're gone. Do you want your brother back, Dean Winchester? Are you coming or not?"

"How do you know my name? Who the hell are you?" Dean asked, letting his gun lower but only a tiny bit.

"I'm Steve Rogers. Now_ come on_, Natasha is waiting," the man, Steve, said, ignoring Dean's first question as he walked out of the room.

Dean slid the pistol in the waistband of the jeans he had fallen asleep in, grabbed his jacket and boots, and followed the blond man.

* * *

Sam watched as the lights passed over his face. He was still being dragged down the hallways that seemed to last forever. He couldn't help but think of Bucky. He had been here before. He knew what was happening. Sam reminded himself to ask him what was happening.

"Dr. Zola will be happy to see you, Sam," the first man said. Sam couldn't see his face very well, but he assumed he was smirking in the way all evil people did.

"The feeling is _not_ mutual," Sam spat.

Sam was pushed into a medical room that had three other people in it. One figure took Sam by surprise. 

It was a robot if Sam had ever seen one. It stood at around six feet tall. It was shaped like a human man and in the middle, where the stomach would be was the face of a pudgy man with glasses. 

"Mission report?" the robot-man asked.

"No. We'll have to put him under again-"

"No, if we wipe him again he'll lose valuable information about the whereabouts of S.H.E.I.L.D. Pierce already wiped him too much anyway."

Sam squirmed against his captors as the robot walked over to him, smiling.

"Hello, Sam. My name is Dr. Zola. I'm going to be performing your procedure today."

"What procedure? How do you know my name? Let me go!"

Dr. Zola laughed. "Oh, I don't think so, Sam. You're too valuable. The syringe, please."

Sam was roughly thrown onto a metal table and quickly restrained by thick leather cuffs that itched an awful lot. He watched wide-eyed as Dr. Zola was handed a syringe full of blue liquid. Sam tried to free himself, pulling on the restraints, but is was no use.

"Now Sam, this might sting."

The large needle was dug into Sam's bare arm and he screamed.


	3. Three

Sam returned later, though Bucky had no way of telling how long he was really gone since there weren't any clocks or windows in the cell. The soldier watched as Sam slumped against the wall, his wrists restrained with metal cuffs again, despite the fact that he was placid. Bucky shot the guards a dirty look as they left, not caring what they did to him. He was just trying to look after Sam. The last thing this kid needed was connections with HYDRA.

"Hey, kid? You awake?" Bucky slid over to the tall man, looking intently at his face as if it would have all the answers he needed on it. Sam didn't say anything, but his head tilted a bit and his hazel eyes blinked open. Bucky placed his hand on the kid's arm, inspecting the needle marks that the bastard's hadn't even covered or cleaned. Bucky glared.

"What was in the syringe? You gotta tell me what color it was, okay?" Bucky asked frantically. He _had_ to know how far they had gone. 

"Blue," Sam whispered, looking down again, his eyes closing softly into an unrestful sleep. Bucky cursed softly, moving away to give Sam space. The blue liquid that had been ejected in both him and Steve. The super-soldier serum. It was too late. He'd become a super soldier, Bucky was sure of it. If they were lucky, though, all the toxic potion would do is make Sam miserable for a few days.

"It's gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine," Bucky stated, though he couldn't tell if he was trying to reassure himself or Sam.

What was he going to do?

* * *

Dean soon found himself in an office with a ginger woman who looked like she could kick his ass, Steve Rogers, and a black man with an eye patch. This was officially the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him, and he fought ghosts for a living.

"Mr. Winchester. I'm Nick Fury, director of S.H.E.I.L.D. I wish you were here on better circumstances."

Dean looked around at all the expansive holograms and computers. This was pretty high-tech. He wished Sam was here because he would have loved it, being the nerd he was.

"Where's my brother?" Dean asked, looking at Fury intently.

"HYDRA has taken him," the ginger said, Natasha. "He's most likely at their base in Siberia with Sergeant James Barnes."

"Sergeant James Barnes? Am I suppose to know who the hell that is?" Dean asked, looking at Steve.

"My friend. Bucky. He's been taken and brainwashed by HYDRA before. We have to move quickly before they do the same to Sam."

Dean shook his head. Demons he understood, but people? People were crazy. Some evil Russians were going to brainwash Sam? This had to be the strangest case ever. 

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go get them."

"We can't just storm into HYDRA's base! They're prepared and we need a plan," Fury said. shocked at the amount of willpower this man had.

"Okay, here's the plan. I go to Russia and kick their asses and save my little brother. Alright, good?" Dean said, glaring at Fury, his hands on his waist, waiting for an answer.

"It's not that simple-"

"It can be. Are we just gonna stand around with our thumbs up our asses or are we going to go save them?" Dean practically yelled.

"A one-eyed black guy, one ginger chick, an angry Kansas boy, and a 100-year-old man. Yeah, perfect." Natasha said sarcastically, her arms crossed.

"How do you know I'm from Kansas? And who the hell is 100 in this room?" Dean said, only slightly pissed off and confused. All he wanted was to go and save Sam and perhaps take a vacation after this shit show.

"I can read a police report and Steve is very old. His bones creak."

Steve glared at the woman. "They don't."

Dean didn't want the whole summary of what situation he was in, but he soon got it, leaving him wondering how any of this was true.

"Shapeshifters I believe, but a frozen World War II veteran? No way."

"Better believe it, big boy," Natasha winked.

* * *

Sam woke up to two trays of food being slid into the cell. He looked over at Bucky, who wasn't touching anything on the tray. He followed suit, trusting that this guy knew what was going on. The last thing he needed was more drugs.

"You awake?" Bucky asked, not looking over at the boy as he fiddled with his cuffs.

"Yeah, barely. What's going on here, man?"

Bucky sighed. He really didn't want to have to explain everything to Sam, but he knew that he deserved to know what was going on. All he wanted was to protect the kid and he had royally failed at that. If anything, it was better to have Sam briefed, just in case.

"The people who took us are called HYDRA. They were created around the time the Nazi party was. They've captured me twice before, once during World War II and another time after I fell from a train. That's how I got this arm. They're worse than Nazis, okay? They brainwashed me and made me kill people. And they're going to do it again, perhaps to you."

Sam's eyes widened, looking at Bucky in shock. "You were in World War II? You look like you're only like, twenty-something."

"Cryogenic freezing. They would put me on ice between missions so that's why I'm still young-looking. I'm actually a hundred years old," Bucky chuckled slightly at the last sentence.

"Wow. Today just keeps getting weirder and weirder. No offense."

"None taken. Trust me."


	4. Four

_The Winter Soldier was HYDRA's greatest weapon. He no longer remembered who he once was and followed orders perfectly. He was like a living machine._

_Unknown to the many HYDRA officials, sometimes the soldier would remember bits and pieces of things from his past. Never names or anything detailed, but sometimes skylines and a skinny blonde boy. The soldier didn't know who the boy was or where the city skylines were located, but it was a lot like watching a movie and he enjoyed it. He never got any entertainment. He wasn't treated like the rest of the HYDRA soldiers. He was treated like an object. He knew he could never say anything. He couldn't rebel. His handler would never allow it, and he had strict orders to keep._

_The Winter Soldier often felt helpless, like he wasn't in control of anything. It was very true. Others always decided when he slept or ate or trained. He never got a say in anything he did. It only truly sunk in when he was being prepared for a mission, though. His all-black uniform was impossible to put on by himself. It contained buckles all over his back and the claps of the weapon holster were all the way up to his shoulders. The claps to make his jacket tighter were on his back and front. He had claps in the front only in case he needed to readjust during a battle and couldn't wait for his handler. The jacket was designed to be restricted as possible. The uniform reminded him on the field who was in charge. When being prepared for a mission, he felt humiliated as HYDRA put the uniform on him and prepared him._

_Because that's exactly what HYDRA wanted. Because no weapon should be able to prepare itself._

* * *

Sam noticed right away that Bucky was scared. He didn't show it often and it wasn't very out in the open, but Sam was good at reading people. He would flinch at the sounds of doors slamming closed against metal and even the faint sounds of Russian that echoed throughout the halls. Sam didn't know how to deal with the situation yet. He hadn't really been badly hurt yet, but if Bucky was scared then he knew he should be.

Sam was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of heavy boots thundering down the hall towards them. Bucky had his knees up to his chest as best as he could with the damn cuffs and was staring blankly at the wall, his hair a mess in his face. Two men stood, looking at Bucky with evil smirks. One spoke in Russian and the guard stationed near their cell unlocked the door. Bucky did not move, but Sam could tell he knew what was happening.

"Prepare the Asset for the mission."

Bucky's head finally snapped up, making Sam jump a bit at the sudden movement. "No! Don't you dare!"

"You don't have a choice, Asset. Now be a good soldier and let us dress you," one said, holding a pile of black clothing.

Bucky glared daggers at the men, backing himself up into the cell. "No! I'm done. I don't do that anymore! I don't hurt people anymore and I certainly don't work for you!"

The man laughed, looking at Bucky cynically. "You're a weapon. Weapons don't have feelings. Now stand up!"

"He's not a weapon, he's a human!" Sam heard himself yelling, standing and balling his fists against his dirty jeans, his bare feet digging into the cement.

"Sam don't-"

The man was now in the cell, looking at Sam like he was simply a misbehaving child. "Soon, you will be a weapon too. Longing, rusted, furnace."

Bucky smirked. "Those don't work on me anymore."

Sam looked over to the men, who now looked confused. For the first time, these assholes didn't look like they knew everything.

"How-"

"Oh, I dunno. Magic?" Bucky walked closer to the men. "So, what's the play now, boys?"

The men exchanged glances and seemed to come to a collective decision that the best course of action was to leave, the old suit dropping to the ground as they fled from the cell, just managing to lock it behind them.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked as he watched Bucky kneel by the suit, picking around it until he found what he was looking for.

"They used to have code-words to control me," Bucky explained, holding the small pocket knife he had found in the pile of leather.

The soldier dug the knife under a metal plate in the cuffs, wiggling it around the wires until they powered off and fell to the ground.

"Thank God, those were killing me. Come here, let me see."

Sam approached and watched as Bucky quickly picked the lock of his cuffs with the tip of the knife, adding them to the pile with the other cuffs.

"Damn, I think you're faster at picking locks than my brother, and that's saying something."

Bucky smirked a bit, his blue eyes meeting Sam's hazel ones. "Alright, let's get a plan together, okay?"

Sam nodded in agreement.


	5. Five

"I'm sorry."

Dean looked over at the blonde man in the seat next to him on the quinjet, trying his best not to freak out about being up in the air soon.

"Why are you apologizing. It seems to be more of these HYDRA guy's fault," Dean said, trying to block out the sound of the jet fueling up.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his short hair, which seemed to be a coping mechanism of sorts. "Well, I just feel bad and I apologize when I feel bad."

Dean smiled. "Must be a 40's thing. I don't remember the last time I apologized."

Steve chuckled, looking over at the younger man. "Well, I don't know about that. We mostly just complained about war and bread prices."

"You know, Sam still does that. Maybe he's a time traveler or something."

Natasha was watching from the pilot seat, smiling. She's wished it were better circumstances, but she was glad Steve was making friends outside of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers.

"You're happy," a voice said.

Nat looked up, seeing the figure of a man lurking in the top storage of the jet. "Clint? What the hell?"

The blonde archer shrugged, falling down to the ground where everyone could now see him. "Keep yelling and I'll turn off my hearing aids. Thought you could use some help, and I never give up a chance to beat up Nazis."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You sound like Steve now."

"Is that so bad? He was a great role model for children in the 40's. So we gonna take off or just sit here?"

"In a sec. Fueling up, Katniss."

"See, through the ears, straight to the heart."

Dean looked over at the new man. He was blonde like Steve, with sunglasses and purple hearing aids. He also had a bow with arrows. The guy caught Dean staring and smiled.

"Hey. I'm Clint. Here to help."

Dean shook his outstretched hand, not really knowing what else to do. How was he supposed to react to all these superheroes? 

"Dean Winchester."

"Ah, the one with the stolen brother. Sorry about that, man. We'll find him, though."

Steve gave Clint a look. "Barton, I thought you had a mission-"

"HYDRA trumps something a S.H.I.E.L.D lackey could do. Besides, you know I hate to miss Black Widow kicking ass. You call Tony?"

Steve shook his head. "Didn't think it was his sort of thing."

Clint laughed. "Everything is his sort of thing, Steve. Pep told me he's been bored as hell in Stark Labs, he's on his thousandth upgrade or something like that.. With Thor and Hulk M.I.A, maybe we should have called him."

"We don't _call_ him. He just shows up uninvited while blasting AC/DC," Steve said sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Right."

Dean had no idea what was going on. He had just been working a seemingly simple case with Sam and now he was thrown into a fucking comic book or something. It was all very overwhelming, even for Dean Winchester: supernatural hunter extraordinaire.

"Dean. You okay?" Steve asked, breaking Dean from his thoughts.

"Um. Yeah. Sorry, just, a lot of information to process at one time," Dean said, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Yeah, I get that. Sorry," Clint said.

"And we're good to go-" Natasha was cut off by _Hell's Bells_ blasting through the speakers of the quinjet.

"Agent Romanoff. You really thought you could go off and fight evil _without_ _me_? I'm hurt."

The door opened and in stepped-

"Tony, I presume?" Dean asked.

"The one and only," Tony Stark replied.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Now that we go all the stowaways S.H.I.E.L.D could part with, can we go?"


	6. Six

Sam watched carefully from the corner of the cell, his eyes not leaving Bucky, who was pacing, still trying to come up with a logical plan.

"What are they going to do?"

Bucky looked over for the first time since the men had left. "I don't know, honestly. How are you? Are you okay?"

Sam hadn't really been focused on himself, more so on Bucky and getting the hell out of Dodge, but once he actually thought about it, he realized he felt fine.

"I'm okay..."

Before Bucky could reply, the Russian men had returned, this time with the knowledge that they had no way to control the Winter Soldier.

"Leave him alone, he's done nothing wrong, just take me instead," Bucky said in Russian, not wanting Sam to understand what was going on. Not that he was an asshole or anything, he just felt a strange need to protect the kid, like he was a pre-super-soldier Steve.

"I think not, Soldier," the man from before said, looking over to Sam. "He's the one we really wanted. You're simply a pet project."

"You know, there's not much you could do to hurt me," Sam said in a strong voice, though on the inside he felt anything but brave.

The Russian guards didn't look particularity pleased.

"Oh, just you wait," one said, an evil smirk on his face.

The man turned his attention towards Bucky, who was glaring daggers at the man. "As for you-"

Bucky shoved the man against the hard wall, the concrete crumbling away a bit. He pinned the man with his left arm, his icy blue eyes locked on the asshole. "You heard the kid. What're you going to do, huh?"

* * *

"FRIDAY, fill me in."

_"Right away, Boss."_

Dean was still trying to wrap his mind around his younger brother being kidnapped by a supervillain. It wasn't easy. He missed Sam a ton. Anytime Tony Stark would do anything high-tech, Dean would think about how much Sam would love to be here right now, nerd talking with the guy.

Steve seemed to know what Dean was thinking, or at least a watered-down version of it, because he put his hand on his shoulder, looking over in a comforting way.

"We're gonna find them. You're gonna see Sam again."

Dean didn't doubt that. Hell, if this didn't work, he had ten other possibilities lined up-

And he knew which one to call right now.

"Cas!"

"Cas?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, Cas, _Castiel_. He's my friend he can help! Hey Cas, dunno if you're tuned in, but we could really use your help. It's Sammy. Cas, can you hear-"

"Hello, Dean."

"Okay, I don't know this one," Tony said quietly. "Is he one of those new Mutants or...?"


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is set in season five...  
thought i'd mention it, ya know?

Sam watched, wide-eyed, as Bucky proceeded to knock the guard out.

"You couldn't have done that earlier?" Sam asked as Bucky collected the keys.

"Don't start with me," Bucky said, though it was in a joking manner.

"What's our next move?" Sam asked.

"You don't have a next move," a voice said from the entrance of the cell.

The two prisoners turned suddenly, coming face-to-face with Dr. Zola, or what was left of the man at least.

"Damn, you're still alive," Bucky said, looking over the huge metal form of a robot that had the doctor's face captured in the glass stomach of the beast.

"And so are you," Zola said, glaring.

Though it was slight and hardly noticeable, Bucky shifted his body to cover Sam's from the doctor and the now half a dozen guards protecting him. Sam noticed though. Bucky sort of reminded him of his brother, which made his heart ache. All he wanted was Dean.

"What're you going to do to us?" Sam said, his eyes trying to take in the doctor's figure.

"It's you I'm interested in. A little birdy told me you were special."

Sam snorted. "There's nothing special about me."

"Oh no? Well, it's just a lie that you are psychic? Don't you have, let's see... death precognition?"

Sam really didn't need any of the people present knowing about how weird he was. But, if it would shut this Robo-Doc up, he didn't care. Well, he cared what Bucky thought of him, but he doubted the guy with the metal arm was one to judge.

"I can't do that anymore," Sam admitted.

"Oh no, that's too bad. Well, I bet with a taste of demon blood-"

"How do you know about-"

"Demons?" The doctor interrupted. "I do my research."

"He does," a new voice said. Zola parted to let the light shine on a familiar face.

"Hiya, _Sammy_," Azazel said, smiling evilly.

* * *

"Dean, what is wrong?" Castiel asked, looking concerned at his friend, who seemed rather stressed.

"Sam's been kidnapped by evil Russians? I'm not actually sure what they are, all I know is that Sam is gone."

"_Why_ does this happen to him so often?"

"I know, I know," Dean rubbed his face with his hands. "I 'ought to get that kid a leash, I swear."

"Is no one else going to mention the guy that just teleported here?" Tony asked. "Just me? Okay, it's just me."

"This is not the weirdest thing we've seen," Natasha reminded the engineer from the pilot's seat.

"Weirdest _today_," Tony mumbled, still staring at the man in the trench coat.

"Oh, um, this is Castiel, my friend. He's an..."

"I'm an angel of the Lord," Cas finished.

"Like, God?" Steve asked dumbly.

"Yes," Castiel said as it was the most obvious thing ever.

"Dean, you didn't tell us you had _God_ on your side," Tony half-joked, standing to offer his hand to the angel to shake, which he did after a bit of hesitation.

"Well, after everything that has happened today, I honestly forgot," Dean admitted, looking over apologetically at Cas.

"I feel no jealously or 'hurt feelings,'" Castiel replied. 

"Well, I'll fill you in, _Aziraphale_," Tony said, pacing over to a hologram screen that showed all the information the Avengers currently had on HYDRA's capture of Bucky and Sam.

"It's looking like they're in Siberia, at the old base where they kept Bucky when he was the Winter Soldier. I don't know what they want with Sam, but it's not good. We're gonna infiltrate the base and get the boys back."

Tony finished, looking at Castiel as if expecting him to contribute something to the cause.

"Okay," the angel finally said. "What if there is warding. What if there are other angels. Dean, did you ever consider this was the work of demons?"

"No, I considered this the work of Nazi nut jobs," the eldest Winchester replied in a sardonic tone.

"Wait, wouldn't we _want_ other angels there?" Steve asked innocently.

"No, angels suck," Dean said, not elaborating at all.

"Okay, sure, makes sense," Clint said sarcastically, slouching in his seat even more.

"I brought the duffel from the car, before you ask," Dean said, pushing it towards Cas. "Holy oil, salt, holy water, angel blades, Ruby's knife, guns, even more guns, the works."

Dean lifted the hem of his mossy green button down to reveal his pistol. "See. I did think ahead."

"I would hope so, considering it is Sam's life on the line."

"Whoa, are you getting _mad_ at _me_? I want to find Sam just as much as you do, if not more. He's my _brother_, Cas! And besides, in all honesty, I thought you were fighting one of your holy wars again or something."

"You know I'm always at the beck and call of the Winchesters," Castiel said in the most sarcastic voice he had. "Me and Sam might have gotten off on the wrong foot regarding the Lucifer's vessel and demon blood problem, but he's still needed in this war-"

"Oh, so you're here because you need Sam for your stupid-ass war, not because you actually care," Dean replied coolly.

"That is not what I meant and you know it-"

"Will you two quit it? You're starting to sound like Steve and Tony, and trust me when I say we only need one of 'em!" Clint said, dramatically making a show of shutting his hearing-aids off.

"He's right, minus the part about Cap and me. This isn't going to help Sam, you two fighting," Tony added.

"No, he was right about us," Steve said under his breath.

There was silence for a few minutes. Only the sounds of the jet filled the cabin, and Dean and Castiel kept sending each other looks of apology without actually saying sorry.

"Dean, if there are demons, you know who you could call that owes you a favor?"

"Who?"

Cas looked at Dean like he was stupid, before saying: "Crowley."

"You're right!"

Dean slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, dialing 6-6-6.

"This better work."


	8. Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It's been a while. Sorry about that, but here's a chapter.  
Also, take notice that I edited chapters in this book...

Sam watched the demon, his eyes crinkled in confusion.

"Dean killed you. I saw you die," Sam finally said.

The demon laughed. "You should know better than anyone, Sammy, that the dead don't always stay dead."

Sam's heart tightened. Of course, he knew that. His entire life seemed to revolve around dying and coming back. He wouldn't have made it past twenty-three if he hadn't broken the rules.

Bucky looked confused, but he sensed that something was off about the man (and it wasn't just his yellow eyes).

"Who is this man, Sam?" Bucky finally asked, looking between the two expectingly.

"You didn't tell your new BFF about us, Sammy? I'm hurt!" Azazel said, smiling wickedly.

"My name is Sam!"

"Oh, but 'Sammy' is your nickname, and I feel that I have earned the right to use it, considering I made you."

Bucky was left more confused then he had started.

"So, what do you say, Sam? Why don't you take your vitamins, get your mojo back, and come be the king Hell has always needed. Crowley doesn't have a thing on you, boy."

Sam backed away from the demon, pressing his back into the wall.

"I will never do that again," Sam said darkly, his hazel eyes fiercely defiant.

"In good time, my child," Azazel smiled. "All in good time."

* * *

"Squirrel. I was beginning to think you forgot about little old me," the demon said in his thick accent.

"Can we have a rule? Can we just warn me when someone teleports next time?" Clint asked, holding his head in his hands.

"Well, and if it isn't the littlest angel. My, my, it must be quite the pickle the great Dean Winchester is in. Where's Moose?"

Dean hadn't wanted to call Crowley at all, but if putting up with him got Sam back, then who was he to complain?

"That's why I called you. We need your help."

Crowley grinned, finally looking around the jet. "And the Justice League wasn't enough?"

"Avengers..." Tony muttered.

"Listen, you owe me a favor, now it's time to pay up. Can you save my brother or not?"

"Not," the demon replied.

Dean took the front of Crowley's suit coat roughly and pushed him aggressively against a wall, a look of fury apparent on his face.

"Why the hell not?" Dean yelled.

"They already have him, you dense cow! Azazel is back and he's taking names! My, you don't subscribe to Demon Weekly? What a shame."

"We're not playing games right now, Crowley," Castiel said, his eyes squinted in anger. "What do you mean Azazel is back? I would have heard something."

"No, don't be so sure. They really warded the place up, you know," Crowley yawned.

"Why bring Azazel back?" Dean questioned.

Crowley smiled. "Well, it was all Lucifer's idea, really. Bring back his most trusted knight and get Sam Winchester to say yes. It makes total sense."

Dean wished it didn't.


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and she's back...

"Sam will never say yes to the Devil," Castiel spoke. "I won't let him."

"Oh, I'm really scared now," Crowley commented sarcastically. 

"Knock it off, both of you! I need to think," Dean rubbed his temples.

"Not usually your strong suit," Crowley muttered, but only Cas seemed to notice. He delivered a dirty look but that was the extent of his scolding.

Micheal and Lucifer were bad enough, but Azazel too? It was that damned Winchester luck again. Dean couldn't help but think of the old phrase his father used to say. "If it wasn't for bad luck we wouldn't have any luck at all." Dean would take no luck over bad luck any day of the week.

"We can kill him again," Dean suggested as if it was just him and Castiel on the plane. "We have the Colt."

"He's stronger, Dean. Lucifer made sure of that."

"Well, Demons still bite it when they get shot with the Colt. Right?"

Castiel said nothing.

"Look, Cas, this is Sam we're talking about. I'm not leaving my brother in the hands of Satan and his number one son."

Castiel squinted in confusion. "That's not what I suggested-"

"We'll get Moose back," Crowley sighed. "It'll just be a bit harder. Sort of like a challenge."

Dean hated challenges.

* * *

Sam Winchester laughed. It had been a few days since he had actually laughed, but he was doing it now.

"So, your big plan is to get me hooked on Demon blood again so I feel all nice and powerful, and then I'll turn to the Darkside and let Lucifer in?"

Sam laughed once more. "You literally stole the plotline of _Return of the Jedi_."

"I understood that reference," Bucky said, knowing now wasn't really the time.

Azazel wasn't very pleased with either of the two captives. "It's very easy, Sammy. We can even skip the whole middle bit. Just say 'yes' right now."

Sam narrowed his eyes. "I'm gonna have to pass, thanks."

The Demon was certainly not pleased.

"Well, then I'm sorry, Sam. Looks like it's time for a drink."

The guards, who Sam fully suspected were possessed by Demons, started towards him. The youngest Winchester wasted no time in kneeing one in the family jewels. Bucky, in his part, seemed to catch on pretty quickly that these weren't the good guys and punched on in the face with his metal arm. Sam was worried it wouldn't do much damage against a Demon, but hearing how the guard cried, he promised himself not to doubt Bucky ever again. 

Azazel stood back as if he was a coach watching his players practice. Sam was too busy kicking Demon ass to notice that, though. He and Bucky needed to get the hell outta Dodge and fast. 

"God, I wish I had an angel blade!" Sam all but yelled as he dodged a punch thrown towards his face.

"Is that a drug or something?" Bucky asked while slamming a Demon's head into the concrete wall.

"I wish it was."

Sam took a punch to the right eye and he knew it was going to leave one hell of a mark. He returned the favor, however, with a kick in the gut. 

"Okay. I've had enough," Azazel said, waving his hands lazily in the air. An invisible force pinned Bucky and Sam to the wall, their feet not able to brush the ground even a little bit.

"I've tried to play nice, Sammy, but you just won't let me. Now I have no choice but-"

Azazel was cut off from his monologue by a pair of heavy doors nearby down the hall slamming open, the noise surprising everyone who heard.

"Oh, hell," Azazel muttered to himself, but Sam heard it all the same. 

Down the hall came the last person Sam wanted to see.

"Lucifer."


	10. This isn't a Chapter and I'm Sorry

I feel so bad. I never update this and that's not fair to you guys. The truth is I have no fucking idea where this is going and I've lost interest in writing this fic. But I don't want to delete it because that's also totally not fair to you guys and you deserve an explanation. So, I thought maybe if anyone wants to adopt this that would be 100% cool with me and sounds awesome because I want it to continue but I'm not the right person to continue it. I hope you all understand. 

So, anyone who wants it can take it. Thank you.

I love you guys! <3


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